


Songs Without Words/Dancing In The Dark

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: One Night [8]
Category: Carol (2015), The House with a Clock in its Walls (2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Music, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 13:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: A soft pair of snapshots about healing, music, and routine.





	Songs Without Words/Dancing In The Dark

"Darling, I'm home?"

Carol called, easing off her coat and hanging it on the hook in the hallway. The air outside was starting to get a definite chill, but the errands couldn't wait and she'd been out to get the last few things they needed for dinner. It was her turn to cook. 

Hearing no response, she opened the door to the living room, planning a little detour on her way to the kitchen, and was a little surprised to see the lamps on, casting warm purple shadows around the room. It wasn't a room where Florence spent a great deal of time as a rule. What was more surprising still was the warm jazz coming from the record player. Carol realised with a start that she hadn't heard music in months. They rarely even listened to the radio. 

Part of building this new life with Florence was finding a new routine, things to do to keep themselves busy. Of course, Carol had quite enough to be getting on with studying magic. She hadn't done so much reading in years, and it was a different kind of taxing, as much as she was loving every minute. It certainly wasn't feasible to spend all day every day studying. In her spare moments, she helped Florence build the fledgling talisman and amulet business she was creating. 

They ate together every evening, taking it in turns to cook dinner. It was nice to cook for people who appreciated it, and it was easy enough to make more for Rindy or Lewis or Jonathan, or anyone else who happened to stop by. After dinner, the dishes were taken care of too. Magic had its uses, of course, though Florence was very clear that it shouldn't just be used in place of hard work. Laziness was not compatible with the discipline required of magic-users, even students. Carol understood that, and there was a pleasant rhythm to domestic chores and simply using her hands for things in this new life. Tonight it was her turn to cook, and she'd settled on a simple tuna noodle casserole. 

Florence appeared from the kitchen, an apron over her clothes, and Carol blinked. 

"...I thought it was my turn to cook tonight?" She gestured at the gramophone, "...is it a special occasion? Am I missing something?"

Florence kissed her cheek and shook her head, drying her hands on a tea towel tucked into the front of her apron. 

"No minette, don't worry. And yes it is your turn to cook, I found a new fudge recipe I wanted to try this afternoon and it seemed unfair to leave the kitchen in a state for you to make dinner so I was just cleaning up. The fudge is chilling in the ice box."

Carol smiled and kissed her cheek in return, tilting her head as the music shifted into something she recognised. 

"...And the music? Is that Glenn Miller?"

Florence smiled a little, a light pink dusting high on her cheekbones, and Carol felt her heart melt a little bit, the same way it always did when Florence came over a little bit shy.

"It is..."

Carol smiled. 

"I like this song..."

"You do?"

Carol nodded, reaching out to rest one hand on the small of Florence's back, to lean her lover just that little bit closer. 

"I do... Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing at all. I was just thinking... well, I was thinking that I am glad you like that song."

"Is that all you were thinking?" Carol asked, able to tell now when there was something beneath the surface of Florence's words, for all that she was also happy not to push. 

"...That and that... I had forgotten how much I liked this music, and how... impressive the power of time is to heal things." Florence sighed, looking down and brushing a piece of lint off her skirt before she looked up again, "After I came here... I built up my record collection again. Some I was able to rescue from my old collection too. But I could never bring myself to listen to them. Every time I reached for them something stopped me, as if... as if the very idea was glass so fragile that touching it would shatter it forever and cut me in the process. But with you... it's nice to rediscover the good parts of who I was, and what I had. It's nice to know that, despite... despite what happened, they couldn't take everything from me. Somewhere, buried very deep inside, after everything... I was... I am... still me."

Carol felt her heart twinge, gently tugging Florence into an embrace. 

"...You are, darling, you are."

Florence's hug in return was tight, almost enough to hurt, but Carol didn't mind because she understood quite how delicate this moment was. 

After a long moment, Florence shifted back and Carol let her go with a quick kiss pressed to her temple.

Florence swiped at her eyes quickly and set her shoulders with a fragile smile. 

"...What's for dinner, minette?"

"I was thinking of tuna noodle casserole. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful. Do you need any help?"

Carol squeezed her hand and stepped towards the kitchen. 

"Don't worry darling, I think I've got it under control. Perhaps... after dinner we could listen to a few more records together?"

Florence paused and Carol waited a beat, unsure whether it was too much too soon until she saw that firm jerk. 

"...Yes. I think I'd like that."

Part of the struggle had been finding something to do to fill the hours between dinner and bed-time, after all there was only so much talking that could be done. They were finding that music did a lot to fill the silence. Not every night, no, but at the end of a long day it was nice to settle back and listen to something familiar, to let that do the talking. Trading songs was a way of shading in background detail without words, or borrowing those of someone else. Carol already had some new favourites, and Florence seemed to like some of her choices too. It was a welcome addition to their routine which allowed them to grow closer still without asking too much.

~

"Darling, I'm home?"

Carol called, easing off her coat and hanging it on the hook in the hallway. Winter was well and truly settled in now, and there was a light dusting of snow on the paths already. Still, it was her turn to cook again and she'd been out to get the last few things they needed for dinner. 

Hearing no response, she paused to listen and became aware of the soft strains of music from the living room. That wasn't unheard of, but usually when they listened to music they did so together. She opened the door to the living room, and was a little surprised to see the lights on as the record spun quietly away, but no Florence.

Just as she was about to call out, Florence walked in from the adjoining room and smiled, taking Carol's hand and gently spinning her as Carol laughed. 

"...What's all this, love? Is there a special occasion I'm missing?"

"Not at all... I just felt the urge to relive my younger days... would you care for a dance?"

"A dance? Just when I think I have the measure of you love, you never fail to surprise me..."

Florence's eyes danced as she took Carol's other hand too, leading her further into the room and the open space where the coffee table had been when she went out that afternoon. 

"Is that a no?"

"No... but it's been quite a long time? I'm very out of practice..."

"I'm quite certain I'll be able to make up for the both of us..."

"Isn't that what you've been doing forever, love? Compensating for my shortcomings?"

Carol was smiling warmly, unable to keep the joy off her face. It was part of being around Florence that she was almost perpetually smiling. A life with love in it was an entirely different experience.

"Well then... perhaps we should start slow?"

The strains of soft saxophones and gentle brass shifted into a familiar opening, one she hadn't heard for a long time, and Carol closed her eyes and leaned into Florence's hold as they swayed together to the music. It wasn't something they could do anywhere but here, it wasn't something Carol had ever thought she would do again, but part of living here was coming to realise that magic could appear in every day things, and right here in Florence's arms felt like the best kind of magic in the world. The kind that felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjq1aTLjrOE
> 
> One of many songs which means a lot to me for many reasons and makes my heart ache a little bit to hear. First released in 1939, and became one of Mr Miller's signature numbers. 
> 
> Stitching together of two prompts from a 31 day fluff prompt challenge I've been writing little ficlets for behind the scenes. You may well see some other longer pieces inspired by some of them too. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
